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Prankster's Dream of a Gallant Death A Rememberance of the Blackman He was sitting on a rock in front of a cave. His cave. It was twenty feet or so from the top of a dark green, black like, mountain. He had rocks wire strapped to his chest, and A thick enough iron mask covering his face, secured also by wire twist turned at the back of his head. He had plates too on his chins, but his hands were bare holding two long barreled western pistols. HE had been firing them through the afternoon and just Like the movies, they never ran out of bullets, The Eight men below, with whom he was engaged in battle did not wear uniforms, bot as yet in his dream there faces had not been seen. The rocks around him had been chipped by the firing, and his mind had been hamered throught the day, but not blown away. HE breathed deep, And stayed steady on his rock seat he saw and felt himself so beautifully errected upon.